


Come Back to Me (Duck's POV)

by tikkikwami



Series: Come Back to Me [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Amnesty (Podcast)
Genre: Feral Behavior, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Duck Newton, please read the author note!!, rated T for being at about the same level of violence/cursing as TAZ in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tikkikwami/pseuds/tikkikwami
Summary: After the tree battle, Indrid finds himself injured and alone. Who will help him recuperate? (Duck. Duck will.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this! I worked pretty hard on it.  
> I'm posting the entire work at once because I have no sense of self-control or suspense :)
> 
> I couldn't decide whose point of view I wanted to write for any given scene, so how about both?  
> Indrid's POV --> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536305/chapters/43934170
> 
> -
> 
> Check out my moth Indrid designs at https://toyhou.se/4043663.indrid-taz- !

*

***

*

Duck rubbed his hands over his face. He'd just gotten off of work. The Pine Guard had defeated the tree abomination a few days ago and honestly? All he could think about was Indrid. 

Yes, the man was already planning on leaving Kepler. Yes, he had been seen by somebody and that scared him deeply. Yes, he lost his disguise so he'd better high-tail it out of here rather than stick around and get caught, right? 

But Duck knew something wasn't right. He'd tried calling Indrid - no response - and even asked others if they knew if he was okay. Nobody had heard anything from him. When he'd visited Indrid's winnebago the day after the battle, nobody was there, so he assumed he'd left Kepler for good. 

It still wouldn't budge from his mind, though. How _scared_ Indrid looked telling him about the sinkhole visions, and how he'd flown away without even looking over his shoulder. 

The worst part was his crystal necklace. 

Just after the battle, Duck had found the necklace on the ground beside where Indrid had been chained up by the goatmen. He pocketed it, not knowing what to do. Indrid was gone, right? But this was important to him. 

So Duck just wanted to check one more time if Indrid was really gone. For some reason the thought made his heart feel heavy.

*

***

*

When Duck pulled up in his truck at the RV park, he was unprepared for what he saw. Indrid's winnebago, still the only vehicle there, had clearly been broken into by an animal. The door looked crushed and the handle was torn off. 

"Hello?" Duck said, standing outside the front door, a little cautious in case whatever broke in was still around. "Indrid, it's me, Duck. I, uh, I found your necklace, an' I just wanted to also check on you, havin' left in such a hurry and all that." There was only silence. 

So with a deep breath, Duck pushed on the door. It slowly swung open with a creak. "I'm comin' in," he said, stepping in. Upon turning to the side, he inhaled sharply. A few glowing red eyes were staring at him from the very back of the bus. 

Duck breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh my lord, Indrid, I was scared for you. Why didn't you answer my calls?" But the relief caught in his throat, fear rising in its place, when he heard growling, and the eyes approaching.

"I- Indrid, hey," he said, voice low, putting his hands up as if calming an animal. Maybe he was. What the _fuck_ was going on? "Are you- you in there, bud? 'Cause you're kinda freakin' me out here a little." The growling got louder. Duck laughed nervously, heart pounding. 

He felt his hair standing on end. Indrid was only a few feet away from him now, glowering at him in the darkness. Duck took a step back and fumbled in his pockets. "Goddammit, 'Drid, I'm here to give you your necklace if you just hold on a damn minute," he told the large moth person in front of him, holding it up for him to see. 

The growling stopped. "Yeah, see? I'm your friend, Duck. This is yours," he said, inching closer and holding it out. Duck gasped as the necklace was snatched out of his hand by one of Indrid's arms. God, how many were there? It was so dark he couldn't tell.

It was strange. Indrid didn't seem to know what to do with the necklace. "I can uh, help you there, just, don't bite me or anythin', y’hear me?" Duck said, finally face to face with him. Well, as best he could be, since Indrid was so much taller, especially in this form. "C'mon, bend down so I can put it on ya." 

He could see Indrid furrowing his eyebrows, as if trying to solve a difficult problem in his mind. After a few seconds, he leaned downward, holding out the necklace. Duck slipped it over Indrid's head. "See, there you go," he said, withdrawing his hands. "Maybe that'll help you calm down or fix whatever this mess is." 

Duck turned as if to leave, and in a flash - how did he get past Duck? - Indrid was standing in the doorway, raising his wings to completely block it. "Guess you want company," Duck said, voice flat. "Could'a just asked, y'know." 

But Indrid just tilted his head at him. "Oh boy," Duck sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't talk, can ya?" He only got blinks in response. "Fuck. God fucking dammit, Indrid, how did this happen to you?" His voice started out strong and angry, then softened to sadness by the end of the question. 

"I'm gonna turn on a lamp, okay? Just get outta the doorway, I don't want anyone to see you." Duck walked a few feet down the aisle to the nearest lamp, clicking it on. He heard the creaking of the door closing, and a large whoosh of air as Indrid hopped on the couch. He wasn't completely relaxed, still staring at Duck with some suspicion, but he was at least calm. 

After a moment Duck moved slowly to sit next to him on the couch. Indrid inched away from him. "Alright, be like that. Can I call Aubrey? She's got your glasses, y'know, you left 'em by the tree." He heard a little chirp and looked at Indrid in surprise, smiling. "Chirp again if you understand me." Indrid chirped louder this time, straightening up and looking at Duck. "Oh, thank Christ. I'm gonna call Aubrey, an' she's gonna bring you your glasses, and we're gonna figure this out, okay?" 

Walking over to Indrid's desk where his phone sat, Duck saw that above the phone were lists and lists of phone numbers - phone booths across Kepler, individuals' homes, and - there. The Amnesty Lodge. He sat on the swivel chair by the desk and picked up the phone. Dialing the number in, it only took a couple of rings before Barclay answered the phone. "Amnesty Lodge, can I help you?" 

"Yeah Barclay, it's Duck. I need Aubrey to swing by and drop Indrid's glasses off at his 'bago." 

Barclay was silent for a beat. "So Indrid's still around?" He sounded surprised. "Yeah, sure, I'll let her know." After polite goodbyes, Duck was off the phone, and swiveled the chair around to face Indrid. 

He looked into Indrid's eyes. "So if you can't talk or anythin', why d'you want me here?" Duck only received a flick of antennae in response. "Okay, I guess I set myself up for that one. You can't exactly answer me right now." Indrid chirped. Duck continued talking. "Do y’just want me to stick around for a little while? Because this doesn't seem fun, and it seems extra shitty if you have to go through it on your lonesome." 

The ranger felt relief as he saw Indrid nod. "Okay, the ability to use gestures is back?" The observation sounded more like a question than a statement, especially since Duck wasn’t exactly sure what was happening here. "So it seems like you're getting better. 'Cause when I got here, you didn't even recognize me, then it took you a li'l while to understand what I was sayin'. But now you can understand me, and you nodded, so I guess you can answer yes or no questions?" 

Indrid nodded again. "Do you remember what happened at the battle with the tree abomination?" Nod. "Do you remember flying away?" Nod. "Do you remember landing?" Indrid looked at the ground and shook his head slowly. "And anythin' between then and when I showed up?" Another no. 

Okay, so Indrid had amnesia. "Did you actually not recognize me when I got here?" Indrid appeared in distress, pulling his wings in close and curling in on himself as he shook his head. With a "Hey," he stood up off the chair just to sit back down on the couch beside Indrid. 

He rubbed Indrid's shoulder. "Oh, you're soft," he said quietly, surprised. He saw what was undeniably some sort of smirk on Indrid's face, and felt his face heat up with a blush. "Yeah, okay, fuck me I guess for tryin' to help my friend." 

Indrid wrapped his two largest wings on the side nearest Duck around him to pull him closer. Some sort of hug, like an apology. It was nice. 

Although, he was being held somewhat tightly against Indrid, and he felt his face getting hot with a blush. "This is nice 'n all, uh, since you're snug as a bug in a rug, get it?" The joke fell flat, and Indrid looked unimpressed. "Fine, Jesus. I was just sayin' that maybe like, this is a little bit, uh, close?” 

Duck was pressed up against Indrid's side, leaning on him, the wing keeping him tucked there. Indrid just chirped, seeming that he didn't mind being so close. "Okay, we already established that I can't fuckin' understand moth language." To be honest, Duck didn't mind the contact either, but he at least had to _pretend_ he did just for decency's sake, right? 

The moth person was looking at him, tilting his head. It seemed like he wanted to ask something, and he chirped again. "I wish I knew what you were sayin'," Duck sighed, leaning his head on Indrid's shoulder. "Wish I knew how to help." He heard another little chirp.

*

***

*


	2. Chapter 2

*

***

*

Then a loud knocking on the door, and Aubrey's enthusiastic cry of, "I'm heeeere!"

Duck found himself stumbling forward as Indrid somehow moved so quickly to the far back of the winnebago that it almost seemed like teleporting. "Yeah Aubrey, just c'mon in," Duck called, straightening up and looking back at Indrid. 

When Aubrey walked in, Indrid started growling again. Startled, she looked at him, seeming like a deer in the headlights. She pressed the glasses into Duck's palm. "What's going on?" she whispered.

"To be honest, Aubrey, I'm not real sure. He can't remember anythin' since the tree battle, hell, he can't even talk-" Her gasp interrupted him. He didn't like the look of fear in her eyes. "I know it sounds bad, but he can understand me talkin' to him, so I think we can fix this." 

She moved her mouth like a fish gulping water, trying to say everything at once but unable to start a sentence. "It can't be fixed," she whispered, throwing a terrified glance in Indrid's direction. The growling increased in volume. "Duck, we need to get out of here right now and call Mama." 

Duck looked at her incredulously. "Well hold on just a fuckin' minute, Aubrey. What in the hell are you talking about?" 

She opened the door, grabbing Duck by the hand to pull him out, when they heard a loud hissing. Indrid began prowling toward them down the aisle. Aubrey squeaked and jumped out the bus, luckily letting go of Duck's hand instead of dragging him to the ground. "C'mon! You're gonna get hurt!" 

Determined, Duck faced Indrid again. "I'm not leavin' you, okay?" he said, and the growling stopped. Indrid was only a couple of feet from Duck now. By the look in his eyes, the ranger could see now that he was more afraid than angry. "I'm not leavin'," Duck repeated, rubbing Indrid's shoulder. And he nodded in response. 

"I'm gonna talk to Aubrey outside since she seems upset. You gonna be good in here?" Another nod. "Okay, but stay inside. You don't wanna get seen." Indrid chirped before climbing onto the couch again.

*

***

*

When Duck stepped outside the door of the winnebago, Aubrey looked bewildered, and said "I thought feral sylphs..." He squinted at her, having basically no knowledge on the topic. "He's feral, right? He's growling and can't talk, that seems pretty feral to me." 

Duck put his hand on his chin. "Well if that's your definition then yeah, he's feral, I guess, but he can understand speech, and answer yes or no questions, so he's not just gone. He's definitely in there, I know that for a fact." 

Aubrey chewed her lip in uncertainty and anxiety. "Feral sylphs can't come back," she said, eyes on the ground. "That's what Dani told me. That they lose the connection with Sylvain, and their minds too. And they become animals again." 

He huffed. "He's not an animal-" Duck began, before being interrupted again. 

"He's a giant moth, are you kidding?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Besides, Mama needs to hear about this." 

Suddenly unnerved, Duck reached out and grabbed her arm. "Don't," he said with surprising force. "I just... I don't want her to, uh... He's not dangerous, Aubrey, and I think he can be helped," he said, voice sounding desperate. "Just gimme some time, okay?" 

God, what if Mama wanted to treat him like an abomination? Just the thought of it send a chill down his spine.

Skeptically, she looked at him for a few moments of hard silence. "Okay," she agreed, crossing her arms. "If you die, that's your fault. If he escapes and is seen, that's your fault. If he hurts somebody? That's on you, Duck. Are you willing to take that on?" 

"Yes," Duck answered immediately. He was glad his voice sounded stronger than he felt. 

She rolled her eyes and climbed back into her car. "Call me if you need anything, I guess," she said, her voice becoming more lighthearted. "Or if you throw a party." And she drove away.

*

***

*

Stepping back into the bus, Duck saw Indrid was sitting on the sofa again. He was holding a sketchpad but seemed lost. "You doin' alright?" 

He felt a tug on his heart when he saw Indrid look back at him with tears in his eyes. "Aw, 'Drid," Duck said, plopping himself onto the couch beside the moth man and hugging him from the side. "It's okay. We're gonna fix this, and you're gonna be alright again, y'hear me?" Indrid scrubbed his eyes of tears and nodded shakily. "What're you drawing?" 

With an upset sigh, Indrid placed the sketchpad back on his desk, able to reach it without standing up. "Do you- are you able to draw?" He saw Indrid shake his head, still staring at the sketchpad wistfully. "So I guess writing what you wanna say is also a no-go?" A nod. "Damn. Maybe you'll be able to do that later, huh? Since you're already improvin'." 

He saw Indrid's eyes brighten a little as he looked Duck's way and chirped. Duck leaned back against the sofa, surprised to feel Indrid's wing had wrapped around him. "This okay?" Indrid nodded. "You want your glasses?" To his surprise, he slowly shook his head no. "They're on the table when you want them. No pressure." 

Then Duck had an idea. Indrid had been stuck without any entertainment for days. If Duck was in that situation, he'd've been bored out of his mind by now. 

"What if I get a book from my car? I can read it out loud," he suggested, and Indrid nodded furiously, making Duck laugh as he stood up. "Okay, damn, I'm on it," he said, on his way to his car.

Duck noticed that the sun was setting, and realized he might have to stay the night at Indrid's. He wouldn't want to be left alone like this if their roles were reversed, and for some reason, he especially didn't want Indrid to have to face this alone.

*

***

*

Duck returned in a moment with a couple of paperback books in his hand. "Well, I didn't expect to be providin' anyone else with entertainment with these, so they're more geared toward my own interests," he prefaced, holding them up to Indrid. "Can you understand what either of the titles say?" 

After a few seconds of staring closely at them and squinting, Indrid gave a sigh of defeat and shook his head. "That's okay," Duck told him, sitting down on the couch and feeling Indrid's wings wrap around him again, as if it was reflexive at this point. "Oh, hi. You're a real snuggler, huh?" 

He heard a small chittering noise, like a little cricket, and looked up at Indrid. He was looking at his hands, not meeting Duck's eyes. Embarrassed, maybe? "No, it's okay," Duck assured him. "It's, uh. It's kinda nice, actually." 

He tried not to think too hard about that. 

Duck held one book in each hand. "So you got the choice of, uh, an anthology of nature poems, or the first Harry Potter book." Indrid deliberated for a moment before carefully tapping the book of poems with a finger. Duck looked at it, intrigued; it was almost like a rudimentary hand with two fingers and a thumb. Indrid chittered and pulled it away. "Yeah, sorry, starin's rude," Duck admitted, and set aside the Harry Potter book. 

"Anyways..." Duck opened the book to the first page. "Shit, I guess poetry on Earth is way different than on Sylvain, huh?" Indrid just shrugged. "So you, uh... you prob'ly don't have a favorite poet from Earth, do you?" Nope. "Alright, so I haven't actually read most of these, even if I recognize some of the authors. Of the ones I know on this list, they're pretty good, so this shouldn't be the worst book of poems ever written. I should know. God, I had a journal of ‘em in high school, they're horrendous." 

He noticed Indrid's amused look. "Yeah, I've tried to write poetry, yuck it up," he sighed. "I think I'd be better at it now, though. Got more life experience and shit, yeah?" 

Instead of looking for Indrid's reaction, he flipped through the introduction to get right to the poems. "Oh, first poem's by Emily Dickinson. She's fuckin' great," Duck said. "Anyways, the poem's called 'A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree,' and here goes..."

"A Drop fell on the Apple Tree"  
Emily Dickinson, 1830 - 1886

A Drop fell on the Apple Tree -  
Another - on the Roof -  
A Half a Dozen kissed the Eaves -  
And made the Gables laugh -

A few went out to help the Brook  
That went to help the Sea -  
Myself Conjectured were they Pearls -  
What Necklaces could be -

The Dust replaced, in Hoisted Roads -  
The Birds jocoser sung -  
The Sunshine threw his Hat away -  
The Bushes - spangles flung -

The Breezes brought dejected Lutes -  
And bathed them in the Glee -  
The Orient showed a single Flag,  
And signed the fête away -

[source: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/drop-fell-apple-tree-794 ]

The rhythm of the words made the poem seem almost playful. "Hm, at first I thought this poem didn't really have much to say except, y'know, look, it's raining, then it stopped, cool beans. But, like..." He looked up at Indrid to see that he was staring at Duck's face, listening attentively. 

Duck felt redness rise on his cheeks and quickly averted his gaze before slowly looking back at Indrid. "Uh, what I was sayin' is that it just- I like the way she made everything happy. Like the raindrops bein' pearls, and the sun throwin' a hat, although I don't quite know what she meant, really." He looked away again, the prolonged eye contact making him feel strange, unused to this kind of attention. "Anyways..." 

And he read the next poem, and gave his input, then repeated the cycle a few more times. Indrid occasionally chirped in agreement, but mostly listened quietly. It seemed that the longer Duck read to him, the more relaxed he became. 

At one point he used a smaller wing to hold Duck around the waist, making him stutter in his reading. He tried to play it off more as surprise than shyness, but who knows?

Duck shifted to a more comfortable position, folding over the corner of the book and hearing a disturbed huff from Indrid. "I paid for this book, I can dog-ear it all I want," he said, grinning and putting it down on the floor. Not like this place could get much messier. "Okay, enough of that. Readin' all that poetry kinda made me feel silly. It's kind of like... an artsy niche, y'know?" 

He paused before continuing. Indrid had his chin on his hands, looking relaxed, but he gave him a confused look. "I don't wanna be associated with readin' poetry. I don't want people to make assumptions. Like yeah, just 'cause I'm gay I gotta like artsy shit, sure," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

Indrid tilted his head at him, as if indicating for him to explain. "What I mean is, I don't want every fuckin' person at the Lodge thinkin' I'm a pansy 'cause of the poems and shit, so it'd be best if you kept this to yourself, y'know?" 

Then Indrid nodded, looking like he found the situation funny now. "Well I don't, fuck, I know I'm not a pansy, it's just that, uh, it's that I very much don't write - dammit - poetry anymore, okay? I, uh, my journal got lost. I dropped it in the lake. Fuck, no I didn't. I, mmm, threw it down a storm drain?" 

He put his hands over his eyes when he saw Indrid looking just gleeful with how amusing this was to him, making an odd buzzing noise. Duck suddenly realized it was how Indrid's laughter sounded in this form. "Fuck! Okay, I write poetry, now I'm a walkin' stereotype, congratulations." 

He heard a gentle chirp, and felt Indrid rest his head on top of Duck's. His tension and embarrassment vanished. The contact made him feel fuzzy and warm inside, instead. He couldn't blame himself for enjoying cuddles with his soft moth friend, right? And it was cozy, especially with all the space heaters running. It almost made him sleepy. Okay, it definitely made him sleepy, and being held felt so nice… and so he fell asleep pretty quickly.

*

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*


	3. Chapter 3

*

***

*

When Duck woke up it was pitch-black outside, the sun long gone. Blinking blearily at his watch, he realized it had only been thirty minutes, and breathed a sigh of relief, burying his face in his pillow again. The pillow under his head smelled like the forest, and it had... feathers? Fur? 

Realization of where he was struck him like a lightning bolt. Sitting up quickly, face red, Duck opened his eyes to look at Indrid. Oh, so he was what made the air smell like the forest. Huh.

"I, uh, sorry?" he offered with a shy grin. Indrid was smirking, but his wing was still wrapped around Duck, so he probably wasn't mad, right? "It was a long day at work, and, uh, it's real cozy in here, y'know. I'm startin' to get the space heater thing." 

Indrid nodded with a chirp. Okay, good, he was being understanding. "I hope I didn't, uh, offend you or anythin' by falling asleep. Even if you can't talk, I like havin' you around, don't want you to think you're borin' to me or anything." 

Looking away, Indrid chittered, folding his hands in his lap. "Fuck! Dammit. Sorry, I know that's your embarrassed sound, I guess, so, uh, fuck. I'm not great at, y'know, existing without being an awkward mess." Then there was the amused buzzing sound. For some reason hearing Indrid’s laugh made him feel happy, too, calming his flustered state.

Stretching, Duck yawned. "When's the last time you ate anythin', 'Drid?" He just shook his head in response. "Okay, I'm hungry too, so I think I'll make a quick food run." 

Indrid's wings from the other side now wrapped around him too, so he was curtained with wings in a hug. He tried not to get lost in how nice it felt or how shy it made him feel. "O-Okay, so, uh, I'll, I won't be gone long, and this is kinda important, so you're not snugglin' your way outta this one, mister." 

He heard a sad chirp. "I promise you I'm not leavin' you on your own tonight. That's partly because I wanna make sure we do everythin' we can to help you get back to normal, and if that means getting you food, then it's what I'll do." And partly because he just liked being around Indrid in general. And partly because he was worried, and seeing Indrid get better would be a comfort.

With a long sigh, Indrid let him go, tucking his wings behind him neatly. "Thank you. Okay, I need to know what you eat. Uh..." Duck paused, rubbing his cheek with his hand. "Is meat a thing? You eat meat?" 

Indrid grimaced, shaking his head strongly. "Alright, cool your jets, we'll be havin' vegetarian food tonight," Duck teased, rubbing Indrid's arm in a comforting gesture. Somehow he had gotten used to the way Indrid was constantly in contact with him, and it felt odd to actually not be touching him. What was that about, anyway?

"You eat plants? Would salad be okay?" Indrid tilted his head, as if thinking. "If you have to think about it then it's prob'ly not a good idea, alright? Okay, no meat, no plants... what the fuck else is there?" 

Indrid brightened and moved to his trash can, pulling out a carton of eggnog. "Oh hell no," Duck said, crossing his arms. "I'm not givin' you eggnog for dinner, Indrid, Jesus." Indrid just gave him a flat look. He pulled out a Capri Sun pouch to show Duck, tapping on it. A thought dawned on him. "Sugar?" 

Indrid buzzed happily, nodding. "You like it, uh, liquid? As opposed to like, a donut?" Again, he nodded. Duck put his palm to his forehead. "Like flower nectar. Got it. Should'a guessed that one, huh, that slipped right by me." 

He stood up. "I'm gonna call Aubrey and give her an update, just so she doesn't... do anything, I guess." Duck still felt the threat hanging heavily over his head: what would the others at the Lodge do if they found out there was a feral sylph running around? He shoved the thought out of his mind before he started panicking again.

Indrid laid down across the sofa while Duck dialed the Amnesty Lodge again. "Hi, it's Duck," he greeted whoever picked the phone up. 

"Hi," Aubrey answered. He could practically hear her leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Probably with Dani. "You still at Indrid's?" 

Duck watched as Indrid laid down, covering himself in his wings like blankets, and for some reason he felt soft inside. He quieted his voice. "Uh, yeah. I just wanted to let you know things're goin' well." 

"Going well, huh? What does that mean, Duck? What can that possibly mean?" 

Duck rolled his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see. "It means it's fuckin' going well, Aubrey, good lord. He's gettin' better by the minute, he even laughs now, and he was able to communicate pretty well a few times, so..." 

He heard Aubrey sigh. "This makes no sense. I seriously thought feral sylphs could not recover from that. Like, what the fuck?" 

Thoughtfully, Duck looked at Indrid, who was already drifting off to sleep. "I don't care if it's unheard of. Indrid will get better." His voice was firm.

There were a few seconds of silence. "I hope so, Duck," Aubrey answered slowly, hanging up the phone. He sighed, turning to look at Indrid, who was drowsily looking up at Duck. 

"Hey," Duck said, trying to talk softly. Indrid just chirped, closing his eyes. He felt a sense of protectiveness, out of the blue. Huh. He really cared if Indrid got better. Actually, he very, _very_ much wanted him to get better. The thought gave Duck a bit of extra determination to keep helping Indrid through this mess.

With a soft sigh, he grabbed a blanket that had fallen off the couch and spread it over Indrid, surprised to hear a new sound. A purr? The thought made him feel warm. "I'll be back soon," he told him, and walked out of the winnebago. The temperature contrast made him shiver.

*

***

*

Soon Duck was returning to Indrid's. He didn't want to spend too long away, partially for fear of Indrid regressing back to an even more feral state, and partially because it just felt wrong to leave him there all alone. He was unable to talk or write or draw, and was probably bored and lonely too. And before Duck had showed up in the first place, he was probably really scared - and the thought felt like someone was clenching Duck's heart. He drove a little faster.

Even though it was supposed to be a dinner run, Duck only came back with a couple of bags of groceries, because he honestly wasn't sure how much he should get. He had the same problem when he stopped by his apartment to pick up personal necessities, and settled on taking a backpack of stuff. He could always go back later if he needed something, anyways, depending on how long he would be staying with Indrid, of course.

Well, Duck knew he was going to spend the night at the campgrounds to make sure Indrid was safe, that much was for sure. But how long should he stay there? 

Giving up didn't even occur to him; Duck was focused on how much time he needed to spend with Indrid to get him back to normal. Regardless, he just decided to get enough supplies for that night and the following morning.

*

***

*

Duck pulled open the door slowly. Unfortunately, it creaked, and Duck saw Indrid's head pop up from the couch, startled awake. His antennae were all wonky, sticking out in different directions, and he was blinking so sleepily. 

So Duck couldn't help but laugh. "Good morning," he said playfully, placing the grocery bags on the table and closing the winnebago door. He dropped off his backpack onto the floor.

Indrid chirped in response, sitting up and reaching for the eggnog already. "I know you're a fan of the 'nog, but I also got sodas and other sweet stuff too, in case you wanted to branch out or something," he said with a shrug. "I'll drink it if you don't like it, no worries about wasting it. Just thought it would be nice." He heard a few happy chirps behind him as he shoved some food in the cupboard and the mini-fridge. 

Duck had to do a double take when he turned around to see Indrid drinking the eggnog through one of those... long butterfly tongues? Proboscis? Indrid's eyes were closed so he was spared the awkwardness of seeing Duck stare at him like he was an alien. Which, he was, but still. It looked fucking wild.

Then Duck said, "I dropped by my house real quick on the way back from the store just to pick up a spare change of clothes and such. I also got some of my favorite movies." Indrid noticed the stack of DVDs sitting in one of the bags Duck brought in. "Uh, let's test somethin'. Can you read this?" He held up the DVD for Groundhog Day. 

Indrid pulled back his tongue thing into his mouth and leaned in closely, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. After a few seconds, he brightened and looked up at Duck with a nod. "Hell yeah," Duck said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now we're gettin' somewhere." When Indrid made that buzzy laugh noise again, Duck felt himself grow warm. "You got a cozy movie-watchin' corner or somethin'?" 

He saw Indrid do that little head tilt again and couldn't help but smile. Duck watched as Indrid pulled out a fold-out bed in front of the TV and hopped on it, dragging blankets out of a nearby cabinet. "Oh, sweet," Duck said, grabbing the blankets from the couch and throwing them across the small mattress. "Surprise, I found where I'm sleepin' tonight." 

But Indrid gave him a long, contemplative look. "Uh, or I could go home?" Duck said, becoming uncertain. Indrid shook his head and grabbed Duck's hand, surprising him and making his cheeks turn red. "I- I guess I'll stay here, uh, like I was plannin', then." Indrid chirped and put the DVD in the player, turning on the TV with a remote he handed to Duck. "You ever seen this movie?" 

When the seer shook his head, Duck grinned. "Oh my god, you've never fuckin' seen Groundhog Day? _Good lord_ , Indrid, I thought you lived in a 'bago, not under a rock," he teased, and felt Indrid elbow him playfully, buzzing with laughter. 

"Do you care if I talk during the movie?" Indrid shook his head. "Alrighty, then you get the director's cut featuring one Duck Newton." He saw the sylph smile, and felt himself smiling, too.

The movie started. Duck found himself nestled in Indrid's side, his face red but his heart warm. Indrid's upper arm was around his shoulders, and his lower arm was around his waist, so he was held pretty closely. Especially given the wings on that side were also around him. 

It was cozy, it was comfortable, it was warm - but most of all, it made him feel happy. Safe. He leaned his head on Indrid's chest and heard a slow rumble start. Purring. The sound was soothing, and Duck closed his eyes to listen to it, relaxing into Indrid's side. 

Soon Duck realized the movie was already twenty minutes in and he hadn't even been watching. 

So much for his commentary.

*

***

*

After the movie, Duck checked his watch to see that it was 10:30 PM. He regretfully pulled himself out of Indrid's embrace. He heard the purring stop with a surprising twinge of disappointment, and stood up to stretch and turn off the TV. "This is 'bout when I usually go to bed, I'm not sure about your habits, though." 

Indrid opened his mouth, as if to say something, and then paused. He looked like he was thinking hard and growing more frustrated by the second. "You don't gotta force it," Duck told him gently. "It'll come when it comes." 

Indrid chirped, still seeming annoyed. He growled quietly.

"We could test how much you've improved in the mornin', give you some extra time to heal or whatever's goin' on in there," Duck said, playfully tapping Indrid's forehead, who then swatted Duck’s hand away with a smile. It looked like his irritation was gone.

Then Duck rubbed his face with his hands, yawning. He was genuinely tired. Yes, he'd gotten a little sleep in with the nap earlier, but after a long week of work, he was ready to rest. Plus a certain moth person situation that took up a lot of his energy, too. "I'm goin' to sleep, if you still want me to stay." 

Indrid chirped, grabbing his hand. Duck smiled at him. "Then I'll stay." 

He quickly changed and brushed his teeth in the tiny restroom of the bus. When he walked back out, Indrid was in his own fold-out bed. For a reason unknown to him, Duck felt a little disappointed. Indrid had been actually very comfortable to cuddle with earlier, and he missed that, just a little bit. Huh. 

Duck flipped off the switch of the lamp. The subtle glow of Indrid's eyes actually helped him find his way back to his little bed. He noticed that in addition to his two large eyes he’d seen all along, there were two much smaller pairs beside them, too, made noticeable by the glowing.

"G'night, 'Drid," Duck murmured, pulling the blankets around him. They smelled like nutmeg. His brain faintly told him that was the main spice in eggnog.

*

***

*

Duck was dreaming. He was dreaming, he wasn't there, he wasn't there with Minerva as her world burned to the ground, bits of the meteor crashing down and destroying the landscape with ease. He wasn't there shouting her name, trying to let her know she wasn't alone, he was there, he could help. He wasn't, but he felt like he was. 

Startled out of his sleep by the nightmare, Duck sat up quickly in bed, gulping in air. He heard rustling behind him and realized he must've woken Indrid. Turning to see his glowing eyes, Duck gave him an awkward, clearly fake smile. "Uh, sorry," he said, voice cracking. 

In the very dim light afforded by Indrid's eyes and the moonlight filtering through the blinds, Duck saw Indrid sit up and pat the mattress beside him with a little chirp. 

Duck got out of bed and sat down beside the moth person. "Nightmare," he told him, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. A nightmare, _not_ a vision. Nightmare. 

He didn't resist when Indrid pulled him into his lap, wrapping all four arms around him. The gentle purring he heard helped soothe him. He tried to time his breath with Indrid's, feeling more safe as time went on. 

After a couple of minutes, Duck yawned. "Thanks," he mumbled, leaning his head on Indrid. "'M gonna fall asleep real soon here, though." Indrid let go of him and laid down on his side, leaving plenty of room for Duck to lay beside him. He patted the space again, clearly wanting Duck to join him.

"Do, uh," Duck began, his tired voice barely stumbling out words. "D'you wan' me to sleep w'ya for now?" Indrid nodded, holding out his arms, and Duck collapsed gratefully into them. The way Indrid's wings wrapped around him just made him feel so safe, and the four strong arms around him only reinforced the feeling. The contact felt natural, no longer overwhelming, now comforting and wanted.

"Thanks," Duck said, muffled because his face was in Indrid's mane. The only response was a soft purring, with Indrid nuzzling the top of his head, carefully avoiding him with his mandibles.

*

***

*


	4. Chapter 4

*

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*

The next thing Duck knew, it was morning. It felt like his eyes closed and instantly he woke up again, hours later, feeling groggy from such deep sleep. He tilted his head upward to look at Indrid. He was still loosely holding Duck in his arms, his wings resting across him like a blanket. 

For a moment, he wondered why he was still so close to Indrid, why he didn't pull away and sleep in his own bed. But Duck felt such a softness inside looking at Indrid's sleeping face, and decided: fuck it. Snuggling is the new norm.

Then those red eyes blinked as Indrid woke up, and Duck's cheeks turned pink, having been caught staring. "Mornin'," he mumbled, breaking the silence. 

"Good morning," Indrid said, to Duck's amazement. He felt his eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh fuck, you can talk again?" Duck was delighted, and snuggled closer. 

Indrid leaned his chin on top of Duck's head, seeming to contemplate. "Some," he eventually responded. With a purr, he pulled Duck closer. "Hi." 

Duck chuckled, trying to ignore the thrill he felt at Indrid so obviously wanting to be so close to him. The close contact gave him a mild case of the butterflies (moths?). "Uh, yeah, hello," he replied, smiling. "So I guess you can talk only a little bit at a time, huh?" He felt Indrid's head nod above him. 

It was silent and calm except for Indrid's purrs. "This is nice," Duck sighed, leaning his head on Indrid's chest and listening to the purrs get louder. Indrid rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands, and Duck felt the tension in him melt. Any doubt he’d had about cuddling with Indrid was long gone. Only snuggles now.

And then the phone rang. Indrid's hold on him tightened. "If that's Aubrey, she'll be bustin' down the door if I don't answer," Duck grumbled. He knew the call was important, but still, the interruption bothered him. "Cuddlin' can wait for maybe a minute." Indrid let go of him with a quiet chirp.

Picking up the phone hastily, Duck answered. "This's Indrid's phone," he said, voice still sounding sleepy. 

"Duck? Hey, it's eight and I haven't heard from you and I'm worried," Aubrey said quickly in only one breath. "I, um, woke up early just to, y'know, make sure you didn't get eaten?" 

Duck laughed, looking at Indrid and grinning. He had caught him staring at Duck. Indrid chittered, embarrassed, and looked away. "I'm still alive, thanks. An' guess what? A certain somebody is startin' to be able to talk again." 

Duck heard Aubrey loudly gasp, "No way!"

"Yes way," he confirmed. "Now, is there anythin' else you needed? 'Cause it's Saturday and I usually-"

"No, I'm going back to sleep. Have fun with the mothball." He heard a click as the call ended. Duck set down the phone and turned back to Indrid, who was sitting up now, holding out all four of his arms. 

He couldn't help but start laughing. "Oh, Jesus. Y'look so silly," Duck said, sitting on the bed and leaning into Indrid's hug. 

Indrid pulled him to sit sideways across his lap, and to catch himself Duck wrapped his arms around Indrid's neck. He was a little caught by surprise, and felt himself blushing, hoping Indrid didn't notice. Yeah, he was just a _tad_ shy when someone throws him around, what of it? Who wouldn't be? 

Then he spoke again. "Yeah, uh, I'm not makin' fun of you, I promise. It's just, y'know, the Mothman's supposed to be a frightenin' figure, no offense, but you're real fuckin' snuggly, and the contrast is just a li'l bit hilarious, you gotta admit." He heard Indrid's buzzy laugh. 

Duck adjusted himself a little so he could lean more on Indrid, resting his head against Indrid's shoulder. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the closeness. "I dunno why this feels so normal. It shouldn't, right? You're from God knows how many light years away, if we were to take a spaceship to Sylvain, which we won't, because that's dumb. But you get my point," he continued, mindlessly stroking Indrid's mane of fur on his chest. "Like, this shouldn't feel normal, but it does." Especially so soon after meeting one another, right?

Indrid buzzed with laughter, interspersed with chitters. And he was still purring. It was kind of a mess of noises. For some reason it made Duck melt inside with fondness.

"I guess that sounded a li'l rude. Lemme try again. This is nice, and I like it, even if you're a fuckin' alien, and it makes no sense to me." Indrid's purring got louder for a few seconds. "God, you're such a fuckin' sugarpie." He was jolted by Indrid's sudden surprised laughter. His face turned bright red. "What?" 

Duck felt one of Indrid's hands stroking his hair. It was comforting. "Pet name," Indrid said softly. "Funny. Cute." Duck hid his face in Indrid's mane to try to hide his blush. 

He mumbled incoherently before sighing in defeat and turning his face to speak clearly. "What I meant was, uh, you just got a lotta affection for one moth." Indrid buzzed in amusement again, quieter this time. "I was usin' sugarpie as like, a general noun, just fuckin' sayin, like, you're a snugglebug." 

At Indrid's buzz of laughter, Duck realized his mistake. "Fuck! Shit, that one's a pun. Okay, dammit, you can have that one." He couldn't help but smile as Indrid held him closer, still buzzing with laughter. 

After a few moments of calmness, Duck heard Indrid take in air and hold it, like he was considering something carefully. Duck realized he was trying to find the words for what he wanted to say. It must be hard, being in that frustrating state of barely being able to talk. "Like it," Indrid declared. "Nickname." 

"Oh, what the hell, why not," Duck said, his tone lighthearted. "Y'wanna be called a funny pet name like snugglebug, fine, I can say it all day." Although he spoke casually, he felt his heart rate speed up. The thought of actually having a pet name for Indrid gave him those damned butterflies again.

Indrid chirped, his hold on Duck relaxing. Since he was a little flustered, Duck looked for a distraction. "D'you wanna watch another movie, or do the book thing again?" he asked, sliding off of Indrid's lap to stand again. 

Indrid shrugged. "Book?" he asked, smiling.

"If we do poems again you can practice talkin', uh, after each poem. Y'know I like to think about each one an' talk about 'em." Indrid nodded, and Duck retrieved the book. He was actually glad for the space heaters, because the floor of the winnebago didn't make his feet feel cold, even though it was freezing outside.

*

***

*

With the book of nature-themed poems in hand, Duck climbed onto the bed beside Indrid. For once, they had some space between them. His cheeks burned thinking of how much intimacy he'd had with Indrid this morning. "Uh, you wanna pick one out? Or just go in order?" 

Indrid carefully took the book from Duck's hands and flipped through it, landing on a seemingly random page and holding it out for Duck. "Alright, lemme see," Duck said. He was cross-legged and sitting across from Indrid on the small mattress. "Uh, it says..."

"On a Mountain"  
by Frank O'Hara

Rocks with lichen on,  
rattling leaves and rotting snow

I shall live to finish this cigarette  
and the turnpike roars up a lesser hill,  
gleams the nether pond and the wire towers  
on the horizon.

A foot away in the dead sun  
a handkerchief lies dirty in the snow.

I'm smoking a Picayune  
"the worst cigarette," press lips upon  
the handkerchief  
and it is warm.

If you were with me  
a sweet and winning word might be heard  
out of me,

the bare trees under and the visible jet planes  
the enormous telegraph paths and grassy snow  
the pale photographic sky, the tangled air  
crackling above heaving marshes into the day

would all be leaves  
around the depth of your voice,  
owning me yours, not naturally so, beyond the barrier.

Here is where I  
have come, so high  
to find this true and all the sounds  
of lovers, and the pleasant cold.

[source: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=27317 ]

After reading the poem out loud, he pondered over it, tracing certain words with a fingertip. Indrid interrupted his thoughts with a chirp, and said, "It's sweet. But sad." 

Duck smiled at him for a moment before looking down at the paper again. "To be honest, I'm not real sure where the literal and metaphorical meet here. Like, it sounds good and has cool images, but don't quite make sense." 

Indrid held out his hands for the book, and Duck passed it to him. He watched as Indrid reread the poem. Eventually he spoke. "Literal mountain... hypothetical relationship. Lonely." He wasn't able to form full sentences yet, but Duck felt relief at the fact that he could clearly communicate complex thoughts like poetry analysis. 

Duck was also filled with inexplicable warmth, looking at Indrid's pretty red eyes. Well. That was a new thought. 

He was startled out of his thoughts by Indrid's amused buzzing. He'd been caught staring and getting lost in his own thoughts, dammit. Face red, Duck rushed to the next distraction he could think of. "Uh, well, I think it's about gettin' time to be, y'know, maybe, breakfast time?" 

Duck was spared further embarrassment by Indrid hopping off the bed. "Sure," the moth person said, easily reaching into the high cabinets that Duck had been forced to his tiptoes to access the day before. He set aside several sugary drinks for himself, and grabbed an orange and a protein bar for Duck. 

After a moment of hesitation, Indrid walked to the table where his glasses lay, and slipped them on. He looked down to see his clothes were still bloody and dirty from the last time he'd been in the disguise: the tree battle. "Oh, shoot." 

"Hope you've done laundry recently," Duck teased, reaching into his bag for a hairbrush. His elbow-length hair was rumpled and messy from sleeping, and he wanted to fix that.

Indrid looked guilty. "Haven't," he answered, walking to the cabinets next to his bed. They were practically empty, just with spare briefs and sweatpants, not that Duck was looking. Much.

Duck pulled a sweatshirt from his bag and tossed it to Indrid, who caught it without looking. "You can just borrow that," he offered. "We better do your fuckin' laundry today, though. Also, you need a shower, Jesus." Duck stretched his arms above his head, yawning. "And I need to get in normal clothes so I can take a walk outside. It's a li'l bit cramped in here, don't know if you noticed, and you'll be showerin' anyway, so. Cabin fever. I'll be back soon." 

Putting the protein bar in his jacket pocket, Duck waited until Indrid was behind the locked bathroom door before quickly changing into jeans and a button-up shirt. Yeah, he liked to look kinda nice sometimes. So what? 

It wasn’t just for Indrid. Of course not.

(It was.)

*

***

*


	5. Chapter 5

*

***

*

Stepping out the door and shrugging on his jacket, Duck looked up at the sky. It was clear and bright out, still chilly in the December air, though. Snow had fallen overnight and the area was serenely quiet, as if the snow blanketing the ground muffled any noise. 

He walked around the edges of the large campsite. All of the parking area was empty except for Indrid's camper and the utilities hookup station. While he walked, the ranger munched on his protein bar. It was peaceful, although he already missed the warmth of the winnebago. 

After it had been maybe fifteen minutes, Duck walked back to the bus, opening its smashed front door. They probably needed to get that fixed. "Hey, 'Drid, it's me," he said, voice a little louder than necessary, just to give him time in case he was changing or something. 

After a second, he heard an answering "Well, come in." When he saw Indrid he noticed the bright smile on his face. "Talking is easier. Future vision, too." He also noticed that Indrid was wearing the sweatshirt he’d lent him, feeling giddy at the sight, for some reason. And the redness of Duck’s cheeks could be blamed on the temperature outside.

"Is that so?" he asked, shutting the door against the cold and taking off his jacket, hanging it over Indrid's desk chair. He sat down on the couch, leaning back comfortably. Somehow, it felt a little like home. "I didn't know you were havin' visions the whole time, damn." 

Indrid winced and nodded. "Yes, it wasn't fun." He sat next to Duck with a small sigh. "Scary, actually." 

Duck rubbed his back comfortingly, smiling when he heard a little purr. "You do your noises when you're human?" he asked, pleasantly surprised. 

The seer looked down at the floor bashfully. "I made sure I could," he said. "Special enchantment." Duck's heart felt full, looking at Indrid with some unnamed emotion or other. He'd learned a lot about him in the past 24 hours. Including that he modified his disguise spell to let him keep his mothy noises. Cute.

Duck shook his head to clear his mind before Indrid noticed that he had his head in the clouds again. "How d'you do your laundry here, anyway?" 

"Laundromat," Indrid said unhappily. 

Duck couldn't help but laugh at the look of distaste on his face. "We can do laundry at my apartment instead," he said, pulling up his hair into a ponytail again. "It'd be easier and prob'ly faster too."

Indrid nodded, seeming in thought. "Will we stay there?" he asked. "Overnight." 

"Well, sure, if you wanna," Duck said, standing up again. The thought made him more happy than he thought it would. "Bring whatever you want, I don't mind. I have space heaters in case my power goes out, but we can pull 'em out regardless, seein' you like the heat so much." Indrid was smiling at him. It made Duck feel some type of way he couldn't identify. It was good, though. "Now get goin'. I can help, too." 

They ended up filling a small duffel bag with items Indrid would need to stay the night, plus a tote bag of the food Duck had brought back from the grocery store earlier. And Indrid's bag of laundry to do, of course. 

It took some wheedling, but Duck convinced Indrid to only leave one space heater plugged in so that it would be livable when Indrid (and maybe Duck too?) returned to the winnebago.

*

***

*

The drive over was quiet. Duck could see out of the corner of his eye that Indrid kept giving him long glances, as if studying his face. The stupid butterflies were haunting him again, dammit. Being admired made him shy.

Duck pulled into his parking space. “So my apartment’s on the second floor,” he told Indrid, grabbing the bags. When Indrid reached for one, he pulled it away. “Now git. You’re fuckin’ injured, or somethin’, not really sure what’s goin’ on, actually. But you’re not carryin’ this stuff, okay?” 

He wasn’t sure how to interpret the little smile Indrid gave him before nodding. “Okay,” he agreed, quiet. 

Opening his door, Duck placed the bags on the ground a few feet into the apartment. “I know you’re probably fuckin’ freezing by now, so lemme get those space heaters and blankets…” Indrid sat on his couch and stretched while Duck plugged the space heaters in. He shivered. 

“It ain’t that cold,” Duck grumbled, feeling soft inside for the seer, and hurried to get some spare blankets he kept in the laundry room. 

Indrid reached for them gratefully as he walked back into the living room, wrapping them around himself tightly. “Thank you,” he said. Something in his voice hinted at affection. “I’m warm now.” 

“You’re, uh, welcome.” Duck wasn’t sure what to do next, so he went ahead and emptied Indrid’s laundry into the washer and turned it on. When he walked back into the room again, he couldn’t help but smile, seeing how cozy Indrid already looked. And silly. He was wrapped from head to toe in the blankets like a mummy. 

Then Duck remembered. “Oh yeah, we’re supposed to keep tryin’ to help get you back to baseline,” he said, pulling his hair out of the ponytail as he thought. “Would readin’ help? Or, wait, you could draw,” he realized, and pulled several sketchbooks and pens out of Indrid’s duffel bag. 

“Yes, please,” Indrid said, taking them out of Duck’s hands and immediately flipping one open, starting to scribble. “I missed this.”

Duck walked into his bedroom and reappeared with a guitar. Indrid didn’t seem surprised. “D’you care if I mess around with this while ya draw? I haven’t played since the tree battle, actually, and I miss it, too.” It was true. It had been a daily habit until then.

Indrid smiled at him as he sat on the couch beside him. “Feel free,” he said, before putting his gaze back on the paper, finishing the sketch and flipping to the next page to begin the process again. “Both help with stress.” He paused, before putting a small X on the corner of the page, flipping to the next one once again. “Future vision is stressful.” 

“You’re tellin’ me,” Duck said playfully, plucking the strings as he made sure the guitar was tuned. “Though mine aren’t nearly as bad as yours, I’d imagine. I just get one every once in a while.” 

Indrid nodded. Duck finished the tuning and started strumming quietly, switching chords intermittently, just messing around, really. “Mine are constant,” Indrid told him, not looking up. “Distracting. Chaotic.” 

Duck hummed sympathetically and started playing one of his old favorite songs, slow and gentle so as not to bother Indrid while he drew. “So drawing helps?” 

Indrid nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Helps me see what’s important.” He paused, seeming surprised at what he had drawn, and hurriedly flipped to the next page again before Duck could see. 

God, he must burn through sketchbooks so quickly. “D’you always pin them up on your wall like a conspiracy theorist?” Duck teased.

“When necessary,” Indrid said, humming along with the tune, making Duck’s heart flutter. “I get a deeper understanding. Lets me make connections.” 

Duck nodded slowly. The song he was playing eventually blended into a new tune, still with a slow tempo and quiet volume. It sounded calm and happy in the major key.

*

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*


	6. Chapter 6

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*

And Duck slipped into his own thoughts, not really paying attention to the music but enjoying the feeling of making the pleasant, rhythmic noise. Indrid was surprisingly important to him now, he realized. Not just as an acquaintance, but as a friend, maybe more. It was like being there for him when he was vulnerable instilled a sense of protectiveness in Duck that wouldn’t let go. 

And it was normal to return physical affection, especially when platonic, right? He was pretty sure Indrid’s snuggling and penchant for closeness had come from some sort of safety-seeking instinct when he was more feral. Probably didn’t mean a whole lot, if anything. 

It still meant entirely too much to Duck, though. He could feel himself becoming attached to Indrid _fast_. But was that a bad thing? Or even surprising at all? Indrid was so… interesting. Other than his supernatural abilities and sylph status, he was an artist, lived in a camper and travelled all the time, had a good sense of humor, and... 

Indrid was handsome, in his human form. Duck could admit that to himself quite easily. But in his undisguised sylph form? He was… Duck’s cheeks burned with redness as he felt his heart speed up. 

He was enchanting. Indrid’s wings were like paintings, swirled and spattered with varying shades of brown and black, like some fantastical owl. His fur was silky and soft, and the long antennae that came out of his forehead were fluffy and quite honestly cute as hell. And his eyes… They were almost iridescent, a shimmery red, with vertical pupils like a cat. He wished he’d had more time to look at them. They were beautiful.

“What are you thinking about?” Indrid asked, breaking him out of… whatever that swirl of thoughts was. 

Duck blinked a few times, realizing he’d been staring at Indrid the whole time, and saw his stupid embarrassed face reflected back at him in the glasses Indrid wore.

He looked away, and stopped playing the guitar, instead resting his arm against the top of it. “Uh… well, first, I was thinkin’ about, uh, the music. Fuck. I was writing, no, composing music - dammit! - I was thinking up a new, uh, song, in my brain,” he rambled, his horrible, horrible lie coming out worse than he imagined it might.

Indrid had his hand on his mouth, and he was trying to stifle his laughter. “Oh, yeah? What’s the song about?” 

Duck felt his mouth start stumbling out some sort of lie before he could think to stop it. “It’s about, uh, birds, and, just birds. Fuck. Nothing other than birds. Mostly, a, uh, hmm. I haven’t finished that part yet, not yet, no.” 

Then Indrid broke down and apparently couldn’t stop himself from laughing hard. “Goodness, Duck.” 

“I can’t help it!” Duck protested, idly finger-picking a familiar, quiet song. “I’m just plain god-awful at lyin’, and that ain’t gonna change, but I also won’t tell the truth. We’re at an impasse.” 

Indrid slowly turned the page of his sketchbook. “That we are.”

Wait - Duck caught a small glimpse of it as the page turned - was that him? Playing the guitar? He couldn’t stop himself from grinning, looking down at the frets as he played, pretending he hadn’t seen. Indrid was drawing him. 

Duck wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings that gave him, all flustered and flattered. Also self-conscious, clearly being watched closely, and he focused on not slipping up when playing the guitar, knowing if he got too embarrassed his playing could go downhill fast. “Any- any important visions?” he asked, strumming as quietly as he could so he could hear Indrid’s reply.

With a sigh, Indrid closed the sketchbook and sank into the couch, relaxing deeply. “Nothing bad should happen tonight,” he said, sounding relieved. “No other futures that need drawing.” 

Looking at the frets of the guitar, Duck fingerpicked a quiet tune. It wasn’t a song he knew or one that he’d written, it was just what was coming to mind. It sounded pretty nice, too, and some small part of him hoped Indrid was impressed. The dude’s centuries old and can see the future, so the bar for impressing him was probably pretty high, but still. 

Despite these doubts, Duck still felt a little thrill to have Indrid just listening to him play. 

When he looked up, he saw that Indrid had pushed up his glasses onto his head, giving Duck a clear line of sight into his eyes. They were a similar shade of red as his sylph form’s eyes, somehow reflective and shimmering, although his eyes didn’t glow in this form. 

Duck was pulled out of his lovestruck staring by the sound of a clear mistake in his playing. “‘M just gonna stop playin’ now,” he explained, setting the guitar in its own chair beside the couch. “Y’wanna watch a movie or somethin’?” 

“Sure, Duck,” Indrid answered. He sounded like he was still amused by the way Duck reacted to seeing his eyes. “What do you have in mind?” 

Duck snapped his fingers, remembering the stack of DVDs still sitting in the bag near the kitchen. He had brought them to Indrid’s because they were his favorites, so of course these were the ones he wanted to pick from. 

He took a few of them back to the couch, handing them to Indrid, who looked bemused. “I haven’t seen any of these.” 

Trying not to get lost in the seer’s eyes again, Duck shook his head, looking at the movies in Indrid’s hands instead. “God, Indrid, how is that fuckin’ possible? Wait, no, I do know it’s because of actual reasons, don’t bother explainin’, but seriously, these movies are good and we’re gonna watch them all.” 

“That sounds like a movie marathon is in the works,” Indrid said. His voice was lilting and happy in a way Duck hadn’t noticed before. It made him feel warm inside. 

Plus his sentences were getting longer, his speech more fluid. Thank goodness.

Duck hummed. “I’m makin’ popcorn, you’re pickin’ what movie we start with,” he told Indrid as he stood up.

*

***

*

After a couple of minutes Duck returned with a large bowl of popcorn. “Hope you don’t mind sharin’,” he said, placing the bowl on the coffee table. “What’d you pick?” 

Indrid held up The Matrix. “This one seems interesting, to say the least.” He smirked. “I mean, there’s no way a movie can actually surprise me? I can’t control the fact that I see the ending.” 

 

Duck placed the DVD in the player. “It’s about the journey, not the destination,” he declared. “Now I’m gettin’ blankets and pillows from my room, so just hold on a minute.” He left the room, a little distracted. 

Last time he and Indrid watched a movie, they’d snuggled. It felt intimate and honestly wonderful. But now that Indrid was feeling almost back to normal, did he want cuddles? Was that a temporary thing? 

Then Duck was walking back into the room holding a large duvet and several pillows. He laughed when Indrid made grabby hands at them. “Alright now, jus’ remember to share,” he grinned, dumping the armful of bedding on top of Indrid, making him laugh. Duck felt a little thrill at the sound. Then he turned off the lights, the only illumination from the TV screen and the edges of the curtained windows.

When Indrid’s head popped up from the pile of blankets, his hair was messy and rumpled in a way that made Duck feel so soft for him. “Can we cuddle again?” the ranger asked before he could stop himself, then he backpedaled furiously. “Wait, I mean-”

“Yes, we can cuddle again,” Indrid interrupted with a smile, holding up the blankets with an arm to allow for Duck to snuggle up next to him, which he quickly did. “I’m glad you asked. I wasn’t sure if this was a timeline I would have to ask.” 

Duck wasn’t sure what was going on in his mind, but he was pretty sure his heart was doing jumping jacks. 

“Uh, yeah,” was his eloquent reply, cheeks burning as he reached for the remote. Maybe he was a little overwhelmed. Indrid wanted to keep cuddling. Indrid liked it. Maybe even _liked Duck_. The thoughts made his heart pound and he couldn’t stop his pleased smile.

Especially when Indrid laid on his side a few minutes into the movie, laying his head in Duck’s lap. He was curled around the bowl of popcorn like a cat or something. “Gotta watch it sideways?” Duck asked playfully, taking some popcorn. 

Indrid shrugged. When Duck cautiously rested his fingers on Indrid’s head, he heard the beginnings of a purr. Feeling like his heart melted, he started petting Indrid’s hair, careful to only use the hand without popcorn residue. It was soft and fluffy from his shower earlier. 

Duck was entirely too distracted from the movie to really be considered watching it. He was really just looking down at Indrid with some unnamed emotion, the knowledge in the back of his mind that he was starting to fall head over heels for the sylph. 

Because Indrid cared. He was centuries old, had seen countless terrors in his visions, but he still cared. He cared enough to intervene when a crisis was coming, hoping to save lives, even at the risk of exposing his powers. Duck couldn’t help but admire Indrid. He was just brave as hell. 

And now he deserved to feel happy. Duck ran his fingers through Indrid’s hair, enjoying the way each stroke made his purrs temporarily increase in volume. And the way he carefully nibbled each piece of popcorn was some sort of adorable.

Facing a constant barrage of visions of the future and being smart enough to decipher that? It amazed him. The system of drawing his visions seemed to make sense - Indrid drew furiously when looking into potential futures, then studied the drawings as he thought over what he’d seen. It was kind of genius. Plus Indrid became an incredibly skilled artist over the years of practice. 

“You’re distracting us both from the movie, Duck,” Indrid told him pointedly, turning his head to look up at Duck’s face. He could see that Indrid was blushing now, suddenly flustered for some reason.

Duck withdrew his hand, confused, and paused the movie. “I, uh, sorry? I can stop playin’ with your hair.”

Indrid shook his head. “Actually, please keep doing that. It feels nice.” He blinked up at Duck. His glasses were still up on his forehead so that Duck could make direct eye contact with him. It almost made him shiver.

Then Indrid’s voice got a little quieter and faster. Duck watched his blush grow deeper as he averted his gaze, no longer meeting Duck’s eyes. “It’s just that in a lot of potential futures you’re going to say some very sweet things about me, and it’s kind of you to think that way, but I don’t take compliments very gracefully.” 

No kidding. “Bein’ awkward and embarrassed is my brand, back off,” Duck joked, stroking Indrid’s hair again. The purrs returned, more shy and uncertain than before. “Nah, but it’s okay. I don’t have to say anythin’, especially since you apparently kind of heard it already?” 

Indrid turned his head back toward the TV. “Let’s keep watching this. You have good taste.” 

Duck pressed the play button on the remote. Good taste. Was Indrid subtly teasing him for his crush? Heart pounding, Duck tried to move his hand steadily, continuing to pet Indrid’s hair.

He was right. It did feel nice.

*

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*


	7. Chapter 7

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*

When the movie ended, Duck felt a tiny twinge of disappointment as Indrid sat up, no longer resting his head on Duck’s lap. He stretched and put the empty popcorn bowl on the table. Judging by the sunlight streaming in through the window blinds, it must have been early afternoon. 

“D’you wanna watch the next one?” Duck asked, standing up with a yawn. He felt a little restless, to be honest. Like he wanted to do something, but he wasn’t sure what. Plus snuggling with Indrid was so nice that he didn’t want to stop that, either. It was a quandary he couldn’t quite solve. 

Then what Indrid said made him grin. “We should build a pillow fort,” the seer said thoughtfully.

“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” Duck replied, already pulling pillows off of the nearby furniture. “‘M gonna move the sofa, hold on-” 

But before he could even try, Indrid was already pulling off his glasses. “Not to worry,” he said breezily, and Duck gulped as he watched Indrid literally pick up his sofa and set it back a few feet. “Is this a good spot?” 

“Uh, yeah,” the ranger answered, feeling his face heat up. “I’m gettin’ stuff from m’room,” he said, quickly walking away so he could freak out in private. Indrid was _strong_ and that did things to his heart that he wasn’t expecting. Stacking the remaining pillows and grabbing them in one big armful along with his bed’s top bedsheet, Duck walked back into the living room. 

He saw that Indrid had already begun constructing the fort, still in his moth form. He’d rearranged some of the other furniture too so that they would have a clear line of sight to the TV. 

Speaking of the pillow fort, Duck had experience in building those. A lot of experience. It was Jane’s obsession as a kid, so he got pretty good at building them, at least compared to the other kids in the neighborhood. 

So when Indrid looked down at the large pile of pillows and blankets on the floor with a lost look, Duck walked over and pulled them all to the side to make a large, empty space in the middle of the room. “I got this,” he told Indrid with a smile. He set the largest cushions on the ground first so they could lay on them, and by the cushion in the front, he put two equally-sized cushions on their sides to act as the “walls” of the fort. Carefully, he balanced another cushion on top. 

Finally, he pulled his bed sheet over the structure. He’d never fully understood the science, but the tension of the sheet held the cushions together, even if someone accidentally bumped against one heavily by tripping - “come _on_ , Jane, again?” was a common outburst in their household growing up. So it was a relatively sturdy structure. 

“Alright,” Duck said, crawling out from his place inside the pillow fort. He had been spreading out blankets over the cushions so they would be extra cozy to lay on. Duck was mildly surprised to see that Indrid was still in his sylph form. “I’m gonna put on the next movie. You can get in the fort if y’want.” 

Indrid nodded. “Sounds good,” he said. Even though he could have easily made himself smaller by putting on his disguise, he crawled into the pillow fort, pulling blankets over himself again. It was comical how big he looked in contrast with the cushions surrounding him. 

Something about seeing Indrid in such an intimately domestic way - in a pillow fort in Duck’s living room, snuggled up in blankets - made Duck’s chest feel warm. 

After putting the DVD in the player, Duck turned around to join Indrid, passing him the remote and crawling inside the pillow fort, too. The pair were both laying on their stomachs, head resting on a regular bed pillow. It was comfortable. 

The pillow fort was a little smaller than it needed to be if they wanted personal space. It wasn’t a squeeze, exactly, but Duck couldn’t help but notice acutely that they were lightly pressed together. “How’s the snugglebug doin’?” he asked playfully, and chuckled when Indrid chittered shyly. 

“I’m doing perfectly well, thank you,” Indrid responded. He lifted up his wings in a clear invitation for Duck to snuggle up to his side, which he did, smiling. When Indrid started softly purring, Duck leaned his head on the seer’s shoulder, enjoying the way the wing laying across the ranger held him close to Indrid’s side.

Although, only a few minutes into the movie, Duck felt his eyes getting heavy as he yawned yet again. He gave up on watching the movie, instead laying on his side to face Indrid and nuzzling the furry mane around his neck. The soft chitters interspersed with loud purrs made him feel incredibly fuzzy inside. 

“‘M sorry for bein’ so sleepy,” he said quietly. “Guess the nightmare really took it outta me.”

He felt a small thrill of happiness as Indrid’s wings pulled him closer to the moth person’s side. “No worries,” the seer said gently. He took the remote from Duck’s side of the fort and paused the movie. “You can nap, if you’d like.” 

“I don’t wanna jus’ leave you hangin’ out all bored and alone,” Duck told him. The space in the pillow fort seemed so small and intimate that the ranger found himself talking very softly, still knowing Indrid could hear every word.

Then he felt Indrid nuzzling the top of his head. He sighed happily. “I’m not bored,” Indrid said, starting to purr again. The sound made Duck feel even more relaxed and drowsy. “I’ll just do some future watching.” 

“‘Kay,” Duck mumbled, burying his face in Indrid’s soft mane. With the wings holding him and the purrs surrounding him, he felt absolutely safe and at peace. So he fell asleep quickly.

*

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*

Unfortunately, the sleep wasn’t meant to last. 

After only about twenty minutes, Duck was trembling in his sleep. Another nightmare. He suddenly sat up with a panicked gasp. 

“Duck,” Indrid said softly, rubbing his shoulders and looking into his eyes. “Duck, you’re safe. You’re at home, and with me.” 

Focusing on calming his breathing, Duck nodded. Just looking at Indrid was helping. Indrid was here. He was safe. They were both safe. His heart rate was already starting to get closer to normal, but he was still on edge. The decidedly unpeaceful dream was still on his mind. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Indrid looked… well. His expression was so _soft_. 

Duck laid down again, settling at Indrid’s side once more. He put his head down on his folded arms. “It’s just the abominations,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hand. “I keep havin’ nightmares about them basically every time I close my eyes.” 

Indrid hummed, one of his hands rubbing over Duck’s upper back. It was relaxing in a way he couldn’t explain. Like Indrid just really cared about him and wanted him to feel better. And it was working; he already felt much less panicked. “Any in particular?” 

Duck peeked at the moth person for a moment. He was laying on his side, facing Duck, with his wings folded neatly behind him. “Y’might think I’m bein’ silly,” he admitted, grimacing. He felt a gentle weight settle over his side; it was Indrid’s wings folding over him like a blanket. Indrid’s patient silence encouraged him to keep talking. “I just- when I saw the goatmen pullin’ your fuckin’ injured ass through the snow…” Duck shivered, closing his eyes. He heard his voice crack as he spoke. “I thought you were fuckin’ dead for a second there, god.” 

The ranger’s eyes flickered open when he felt Indrid’s hand on his cheek. “You saved me,” the moth person said quietly. He looked like he understood what Duck was feeling, even like he shared that feeling. The lingering fear from the tree battle, relief from it being over, nervousness for the next battle - it was all wrapped up in an uncomfortable little bundle weighing heavily on Duck’s mind.

Duck laughed nervously, partly because of the little thrill he felt at the intimate contact. “This time,” he said, sounding almost as bitter as he felt. “Dammit, Indrid, I was _scared_.” 

“I was too,” the seer responded, his hand stroking Duck’s cheek now. The gesture did help soothe him. “You’re not being silly at all, Duck Newton.” 

Gazing into Indrid’s eyes, Duck fell silent. He examined each one. They had bright and shimmering red sclera and darker red irises, with black vertical slits for pupils, like a cat. Silently, he looked at the largest pair of eyes, set just where it would look most normal for them to be if he was human; then at the smaller two pairs, sitting just above his larger eyes like gems. All of them glowed subtly in the semi-darkness. 

“Do you want me to put on my glasses?” Indrid asked, his voice sounding almost timid. 

Duck shrugged. “I like you just as much in either form, to be real with ya.” He smiled as Indrid made his shy chittering noise. “I mean, c’mon. You’re so fuckin’ fluffy as a moth person, why d’you think I want you to be human again?” To illustrate his point, he ran his fingers through the long fur on Indrid’s chest, where the mane began. To his delight, he felt rumbling beneath his hand as Indrid began purring. 

“I’m not used to people liking this form,” he admitted, tilting his head at Duck. “They usually hate it, actually.” 

“They don’t know what they’re missin’,” Duck said. He grinned, seeing Indrid’s shyness. 

Indrid opened his mouth as if to speak, then pressed his lips together in a firm line. To Duck’s mild disappointment, he changed the subject. “Would you like to continue the movie?” 

Duck nodded and reached for the remote.

*

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	8. Chapter 8

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*

By the time the movie credits were rolling, it was late afternoon. The sun was approaching the horizon, not yet swimming in the sunset, just dipping its toes in. 

Indrid wriggled backward out of the pillow fort. When Duck did the same, he just had to laugh as he looked over at Indrid. The moth person’s fur was sticking up every which way. With a lighthearted glare in Duck’s direction, Indrid quickly smoothed down his fur. 

“What d’you want for dinner?” Duck asked, standing up and stretching luxuriously. “Uh, I guess sugary stuff if you’re gonna be mothy. But I can make actual food if y’wanna eat as a human.” 

Grabbing his glasses from where he’d set them down earlier, Indrid placed them on his face and in a blur, he was in his human disguise again. Duck couldn’t help but admire him once again. He’d chosen a _handsome_ human form. 

“I mostly just have sweet drinks in either form,” Indrid said. He quirked his brow with a barely-suppressed grin of amusement. “In some futures you said that out loud, by the way.” 

“Fuck!” the ranger cursed, walking into the kitchen so he didn’t have to make eye contact with Indrid. “Goddamn mind reader.” 

He felt his heart flutter at Indrid’s giggle behind him. “You know that isn’t how it works,” he admonished quietly, walking to the fridge and pulling out some apple juice. 

“I know,” Duck sighed, stretching again and taking some leftovers from the fridge to heat up. He caught sight of himself in the mirror by the hallway. His curly hair had almost all fallen out of his ponytail. He pulled out the hair tie as the microwave beeped, showing his food was done heating. 

Indrid sipped his apple juice, looking at Duck contemplatively. “You know, I could braid your hair,” he offered, standing up from his seat at the table. “So you wouldn’t have to redo it all the time.” He walked out of the kitchen to the living room, pulling the blankets out of the pillow fort and wrapping them around himself cozily.

Duck shrugged. “It’s mostly just a nervous habit, I guess,” he said between bites. “Fixin’ my ponytail, I mean. But sure, be my guest.” The thought of Indrid’s hands in his hair made his heart feel all melty. 

He quickly washed his plate and fork in the sink before joining Indrid on the couch. “If you sit on the floor it might be easier,” Indrid suggested. Duck missed being able to see his eyes, like in his sylph form. They were covered by the highly reflective sunglasses now. 

Sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch, Duck gave a relaxed sigh as he felt Indrid’s deft fingers gather up his hair. “How were your visions earlier?” 

“Surprisingly clear,” Indrid said, slowly finger-combing Duck’s hair. “I think I may be recovered fully now, actually.” 

“How d’you figure?” Duck asked, curious. 

He felt Indrid’s hands shift oddly, and he realized the seer had shrugged. “Well, I can talk just fine, and draw and write, and my visions are as easy to read as ever.” 

“Well yeah, that makes sense.” 

Slowly, Indrid began taking locks of Duck’s hair in his hands, building up a French braid. “It was lucky you found me before I was too far gone.” 

“Yeah, what the hell was that about, anyway?” Duck asked, forcing himself to keep looking ahead instead of inquisitively looking over his shoulder. “Were you feral or some shit?” 

With a laugh, Indrid said, “Or some shit, yes. I was approaching feral status. Sylphs heal quickly from our connection with Sylvain, you see - but my connection comes from this crystal. Without the crystal or going to the Amnesty Lodge hot springs, I was completely cut off from Sylvain, while at the same time using my remaining connection with her to heal.” He went silent for a few moments, focusing on fixing a small mistake he made in the braid. “If you hadn’t brought me the crystal, well. That would have been it for me, I suppose.” He laughed again, but it sounded hollow this time. 

“I’m real glad I went to check on you, then,” Duck said. He couldn’t help but lean into the calming touches Indrid gave him on his scalp as he worked through the ranger’s hair. “And that Aubrey was wrong.” 

Indrid hummed. “How was Aubrey wrong?” 

“She said once y’get feral there ain’t any coming back,” Duck explained. “Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m _glad_ she was wrong.” Indrid was suspiciously quiet behind him. “Uh, you good?” 

“Yes, sorry,” Indrid said, broken out of whatever thought process he’d apparently been stuck in. Duck couldn’t see his face, but he thought that the seer sounded sheepish. “I’m, ah, it’s just an odd part of being a sylph, I guess.” 

Duck yawned again, not totally awake from his ill-fated nap earlier. “What is?” 

“It’s rare for a sylph to come back from a feral state like the one I was in,” Indrid said, voice growing softer as he talked. “It takes someone you trust, _really_ trust, to bring you back from that.” 

Duck felt a wave of warmth crash through him, and he grinned. “Aww,” he cooed. Indrid already trusted him that much before they’d even started spending this much time together. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.” 

“Yes, well, it’s certainly something that you, specifically, were the person who came to find me.” He was working down the braid quickly now that the more complicated process was done, now just working through the major column of hair down Duck’s back. “I don’t think the other members of the Pine Guard would have been able to help me the way you did.” 

“I’m gonna give you the biggest fuckin’ hug when I’m allowed to move again,” Duck declared, feeling gleeful. Indrid _trusted_ him more than everyone else, and it made him feel special. Wanted. 

Indrid didn’t respond until he’d finished tying off the braid. “There, I’m finished,” he said. 

Hopping up on the couch, Duck instantly wrapped his arms around the seer, holding him close. The little purr he got in response was fucking adorable. “Thanks,” he mumbled. 

“You’re welcome,” the seer responded, wrapping an arm around Duck’s shoulders. It felt natural to be pressed up against him like this, like they belonged together. “Duck, would you mind if I asked you something?” 

“Go ahead,” he said with a shrug. 

Indrid bit his lip, seeming indecisive. Duck leaned back from the hug to study his face, waiting for whatever he was going to ask. “Why did you decide to take care of me?” 

Duck laughed disbelievingly. “What, you think I can see someone in that state and just stand by?” 

“Right,” he sighed, looking somewhat disappointed. The purrs petered out into an uncomfortable silence. “I guess that makes sense.” 

The ranger leaned forward to lay his head on Indrid’s shoulder. He had the feeling Indrid wanted more of an explanation. “And, well, fuck. I dunno how to say this without soundin’ like a big ol’ fuckin’ sap, but, uh, I care about you. A lot.” 

Indrid seemed surprised, and he giggled. “You barely know me,” he pointed out, but his voice sounded happier than before. 

“I think after what we’ve been through, trust comes first, and gettin’ to know each other comes second,” Duck explained, closing his eyes. “I dunno. It’s just, uh… I couldn’t stop _thinkin’_ about you. First when y’said you might leave Kepler, and that was a real disappointin’ thing to hear. But then when you jus’ flew off and nobody knew where you were?” He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to get his emotions under control before they derailed his train of thought. Thankfully, the loud purrs rolling through Indrid’s chest made him feel grounded and steady. “I’m glad I found ya, that’s all.” 

Then Duck chuckled as he felt Indrid kiss the top of his head. He felt happiness coursing through him, and he sighed dreamily. “An’ the more time I spend with you, the more I like ya.” Now, normally, saying things like this to his crush would be nerve-wracking beyond belief. But this was _Indrid_ , who he trusted with his life, who he brought back from a feral state, who made him feel loved. So the words came easily. “I don’t want y’to feel pressured to feel the same way, y’know, it’s just. I like you, an’ I’d like to keep spendin’ time with ya, even though you’re all healed up and such now.” 

He felt a finger on his chin, and willingly moved his head upward to meet Indrid’s eyes. His glasses were pushed up onto his forehead, and his bright red eyes took Duck’s breath away. “I’d like that,” Indrid whispered.

And he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the ranger’s.

Duck couldn’t help it. He smiled into the kiss, knowing it messed up the rhythm of everything, but he was just so _happy_ that the smile was unstoppable. “Me, too.” When Indrid pulled back and looked at him fondly, Duck noticed that his heart was racing, and he started talking before he could stop himself from saying his thoughts aloud. “Oh, god, I think I’m-” 

“-in love with you,” Indrid finished for him, laughing. He softly kissed his forehead, the little token of affection making him feel like he was buzzing from happiness. “I love you too, Duck.” 

Their eyes met for one more smoldering moment before Duck leaned in for another kiss.

*

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*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


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